The invictus, p.31
The Invictus, page 31
Just then, there was a light rapping at the door. Jason poked his head in.
“I just wanted to check on you two to see how you are and if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Sensei,” Craig said softly.
Sam lightly tapped Craig’s hands that were clasped in his lap. She turned back to their instructor. “Yeah, we’re going to be okay.”
“This is where it’s at? I never knew there was a church tucked in here.” Craig stared up at the building that he and Sam were approaching.
“That’s it,” Sam confirmed. “Can’t say that I’ve ever been here either.”
Saint James Chapel was off River Loop North in downtown. Its dark stone exterior rose over a half dozen stories as it sat nestled among office buildings. At street level, there were four sets of dark wood double doors, and above them loomed a larger crucifix relief.
Sam was dressed in plain dark slacks, black flat shoes, and a gray collared shirt that rounded out an appearance less edgy than he was used to.
“Does this outfit work for this?” Craig asked of his own appearance.
Sam looked him over. Craig wore khaki pants, his old brown casual shoes, and a blue-striped oxford shirt. The shirt was a little tight, and the pants just a cuff shorter than where they should hang since he had borrowed them from Jason. Still, Craig had finally gotten out of the clothes he had worn for days and cleaned up well after having showered and shaved at the gym.
“You look good, Craig. How are you feeling?”
As Craig’s attention was drawn back up toward the large stone relief of the crucifix, his hands fidgeted nervously. “I’m still feeling that hole inside my chest, but now it’s wrapped in a ton of anxiety too.”
“I can’t imagine. But remember, you’ve got this. I’m with you.” She patted him on the back reassuringly, and he dropped his gaze and headed for the entrance with Sam beside him, stride for stride.
The entryway beyond the open wooden doors looked like any other lobby of a downtown building. In just a few strides, Craig and Sam made their way across it. They came to another set of glass doors that opened into a glorious cathedral.
“Whoa,” Sam said in a breathy whisper.
A church usher at the door handed them a small In Memoriam handout. Neither of them made eye contact with the usher as they soaked up the magnificent setting: the tan grandeur of polished marble and mahogany pews.
As they slowly entered the space, Craig was intimidated by the formality of the setting and the circumstances that brought them there. It felt foreign to him, unlike the Lauren he had known.
Seeming to sense Craig’s reluctance, Sam gently nudged him forward. “It’ll be okay,” she said, her voice low, “I’m here.”
They continued on. Organ music played softly. Only about thirty people sat in the pews, silently staring toward the front of the church. Craig guessed that most of those who were coming had already arrived.
As he drew closer to the front where others were seated, a bit of familiarity came into view. There was a poster-sized picture of a smiling Lauren at the altar. It sat on a large rectangular table that was adorned with bouquets of flowers too numerous to count.
Craig saw Jeff Harris, Lauren’s father. Their eyes locked, and Jeff’s face registered shock when he realized it was Craig. His eyes narrowed, and his lips quivered in rage.
“Oh no,” Craig whispered as he stopped in his tracks. Sam halted as well.
Before family or friends could realize or prevent it, Jeff Harris was out of his pew and stormed up the aisle to come face-to-face with Craig, blocking his way.
The smooth, soothing organ provided a stark contrast as the two men eyed one another. Craig was taller than Jeff, but the frumpiness of his outfit and the weight of his guilt made him look small. Jeff, in contrast, wore sport coat and tie and cast a respectful, solemn look.
“You have a lot of nerve showing up here today.”
“Mr. Harris, I am so sorry—”
“Cut it! How dare you!” Jeff snarled in an angry whisper. “I warned you not to get mixed up with your cousin’s line of work. It’s too dangerous! Don’t you remember what you promised us?”
“Yes, I do.” Craig’s chin dropped to his chest.
“She was a gift to us that came into our lives,” Jeff hissed. “We told you our concerns. You swore she would be safe. Now the police won’t tell us anything. You’ve been completely AWOL, and now you show up here. Why?” His last question sounded almost pleading, desperate to understand. “You let our precious daughter be taken from us!”
Sam looked pained. The encounter was brutal to watch and awkward as others turned to see what was causing the tension.
Just then, Eric Hammond came up behind Craig, wearing his long, dark trench coat. He moved to step in between the two men. “Mr. Harris, I’m Lieutenant Eric Hammond—”
“I know who you are,” Jeff snapped.
“If you want a target for your anger, point it at me. The department was unaware that terrorist cells were targeting our officers or their kin. I know that gives you no solace at all right now. You have my and the superintendent’s deepest condolences on the loss of your daughter.”
Lynn Harris had approached and taken up a position behind her husband while the muted confrontation took place. “Jeff, please. Come and sit. Let’s just try to get through this day. The way Lauren would’ve wanted us to,” she said.
His lips still trembling, his face reddened, Jeff acquiesced to her instruction. “You’re right, Lynn. For Lauren. No one else matters today except for her.”
“Mr. Harris, please know . . .” Craig started.
“Don’t even . . .” Jeff warned, before trailing off. Lynn grasped his hand and gently guided him back to their seats.
Craig closed his eyes as a tide of emotions washed through him. He spun on his heel to leave.
“Craig?” Sam caught up with him as he neared the end of the aisle and grabbed his hand. “Sit with me.”
“I don’t want to.”
“You’ll regret it forever if you don’t. Trust me.”
The priest appeared to pick up on the tense encounter. He quickly left his seat behind the altar and hastily made his way to the microphone. “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit,” he said.
Sam and Craig watched as many of the attendants made the sign of the cross and mumbled several words.
The priest began. “It is a mournful and unexpected situation that has brought us all together today. I offer you, the friends, family, and loved ones of Lauren Elizabeth Harris, comfort and consolation. Lauren’s family has asked that today not be a traditional Catholic service but instead be a celebration of Lauren’s life and her impact on others. In our upmost respect for these wishes, the church of Saint James the Apostle is honored to do so. Please join me in this opening prayer . . .”
As the attendants bowed their heads and listened, Craig looked at Sam, his eyes searching, appearing lost. She reached out and patted his hand.
The priest recounted Lauren’s life, her personality and qualities, and Sam and Craig spoke in hushed whispers.
“The Harrises are right. I am to blame for this.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Jeff and Lynn Harris would want you to know,” the priest went on, “that Lauren was always the light of their lives and remains so even in this dark hour. Lauren was a gift that came to them when they adopted her . . .”
“Adopted,” Craig whispered as he shook his head. “Her big secret from me.”
“What? You mean you didn’t know?”
“Not until recently,” Craig said with an air of resignation. The priest continued, “And I would say to each of you, that even as she passes from this earth, her light will continue . . .”
As Craig stared at the back of the pew in front of him, he wondered why Lauren had never mentioned she had been adopted. Such an important life event seemed like something his girlfriend would have willingly shared with him during the two years they were together.
The priest’s words rang true as he went on. “The grief that we feel is all the unexpressed love and emotion that we have for someone. Until we pass ourselves, we will continue to carry a part of this grief. Because we never get enough time with those we care about.”
The pit that had opened in Craig’s chest since Lauren died felt as though it could never be filled.
“We must appreciate the impact they have on us and honor them through the ways in which we live our lives.”
It was true. Lauren had always accepted him and put up with the mystery of his secrets. All of her words of wisdom usually bubbled in Craig’s consciousness. There was meaning and purpose. But now, in the stew of pain he felt, it was difficult for Craig to draw any of them from his thoughts.
“A person’s legacy is the value of their presence. The challenge when they are gone is to transform that into a living legacy. Grief can be a teacher for those of us left behind. Her parents believe that Lauren was the best of us. Anyone who truly knew her understands this to be true.”
He let the words hang in the air. There was silence as everyone in attendance gave space to reflect on this wonderful person.
“A legacy gift can be transformational, something left for you that supplies missing pieces you never knew you needed. After all, what is a legacy? It can be planting the confidence, support, and friendship in others that you may never see blossom. Lauren undoubtedly did this for her parents and for many of you as well. Jeff and Lynn deeply appreciate your honoring Lauren today. But they would also challenge you to ask: What do you want people to say about you when you are gone?”
Sam tilted her head at the curious way the priest’s words changed.
“For Lauren, it was her light. The way she reached out to people. Her kindness, her charity. She had a selflessness, and she was always trying to find and recruit those who had gifts but had been marginalized.”
Craig looked up as a memory suddenly snapped into focus: Lauren showing kindness to the panhandler Craig had threatened.
“She did it in her work, helping people develop and be productive in their chosen vocation. She was a different level of spirit,” the priest said. “Always shining her light on whatever or whomever needed to receive it. She left each of us with an impression. What I ask of you is what are each of you willing to do to honor her? What step would you take today if you were brave enough? Are you willing to try?”
It was odd hearing this, Craig thought. The priest’s message conveyed, nearly precisely, a sentiment Lauren had often shared with Craig.
“Be brave and remember this challenge, even if you find yourself in the darkest depths of despair that the smallest ray of light cannot pierce. Now, let us think of Lauren in silent reflection.”
A pair of ushers made their way up the aisle, one handing out small white candles to be passed down each pew, while the other followed behind with a lit candle used to light them.
Despite the inspiring words, darkness crept into Craig’s mind. Nothing could change the fact that Lauren was gone forever, and that a terrible malevolence had grown closer and closer. It had started with Craig’s re-creations of the crime scenes. He hadn’t known the victims until his re-creation of Maggie’s death, for whom he had known only briefly. Then Danny’s girlfriend Emma was killed, someone he had gotten to know well. And now with Lauren’s death, the encircling darkness couldn’t possibly have moved any closer. Even more so, Lauren’s death was an event that Craig felt specifically responsible for. He knew he had endangered her by continuing to be involved with Danny in their quest to understand this mystery.
The ushers reached the row near the back where he and Sam sat. As they held their small flames, Sam cast her gaze toward the front and those who meditated there. Craig stared down at his flame instead, tumult roiling within him. His field of vision narrowed; dark black splotches blocked out everything except the flickering light in his hands. The roiling turned to anger. Rage. He felt it welling in his eyes as if it needed to escape. Still his eyes bore down on the flame. The grief and the loss were all consuming. With each spike in emotion, the flame whipped rapidly, as if stirred by a sudden jet of air.
Craig continued to move the flame with his mind. Then, suddenly, he noticed a reflection of the flame in the medallion that dangled against his shirt. It was the St. Benedict medal Lauren had given him. Mercifully, it drew him out of his feelings of rage, but it still left only sadness. He fiddled with it between his index finger and thumb. He closed his eyes and let the feeling of the smooth metal soothe him, if only for a few moments.
The mourners were drawn out of their quiet contemplation by the priest. “Remember that when there is doubt, allow faith. Where there is despair, allow hope.”
It sounded almost poetic. Brave. Craig could hear the gentle sobbing of those gathered in the pews.
“Now, I invite each of you to come to the altar to pay your individual respects.”
Craig had held on as long as he could. He extinguished the flame of his candle with thumb and forefinger.
“I’m ready, Sam.” Without waiting for her, he got up and headed to the glass doors through which they entered. Sam hastened along to catch up with him.
They were through the lobby and had pushed open the exterior doors when Craig heard someone calling to him.
“Henriksen! Wait up.”
Eric Hammond caught up to them on the sidewalk at the end of the block. “How are you holding up, son?” Hammond said, catching his breath.
Craig started to speak, but his throat tightened with emotion. He only gestured back to the cathedral and shook his head.
Sam stepped in. “He’s doing the best he can right now.”
“And who are you?” Hammond asked.
“A friend,” Sam answered, annoyed by his tone.
“It’s okay, Sam. Eric is cool. Thanks for checking on me, Lieutenant.”
“Miss Harris was a special lady. I could tell that from the time I spent with you all at that hospital in Iowa. I’m truly sorry, Craig.”
Craig looked down at the sidewalk. He then brought his attention back to Hammond. “Where’s Danny?” he asked.
“Keeping out of sight for now. The Chief thought he was too hot to be out in the open, both with regard to the family and because Bishop might have more plans for him, or for other detectives.”
“Whatever,” Craig scoffed. He was irritated. He knew that the focus of Bishop’s plans would have nothing to do with Danny or the police. Eager to end the conversation, he said, “Anyway, I do appreciate the things you said to the Harrises.”
“Least I could do.”
“I’ve got to go.”
“Henriksen, wait. I don’t think you’ve had a chance to get back to the apartment you shared with Miss Harris, have you?”
“No. I’ve heard it’s been a zoo around there. You’ve had patrols hanging out there, right?”
Hammond nodded. “Right, to continue the investigation, see if there was any other angle Bishop might have had with Lauren. I can carve out some time for you when there will be no uniforms there. I could give you a couple of hours tomorrow so you can get over there and remove some of your things if you want to.”
“Really?”
“I figured that might be helpful to you.” He looked at Sam. “But it may be better if you go alone. It’ll draw less attention if just one person is going in and out.”
“That makes sense.” Craig was relieved for the chance to get into the apartment by himself and gather clothes and other things he needed.
“I appreciate that. Thanks, Eric.”
“Tomorrow, say between ten and noon work for you?”
Craig nodded.
“Take care of yourself, Henriksen. I’m available if you need anything. And I know Danny would like to hear from you.”
At that, Craig’s mood shifted. He held up his hand as if to say he wanted to hear no more. He turned to leave. With a shrug toward Hammond, Sam followed closely behind.
It was midmorning, and the air was dry and warm. Craig stood outside the entrance to the martial arts studio clad in a dark T-shirt and jeans. Sam was but a few feet from him wearing her usual black jeans and a black hoodie.
Craig was silent as he stared at the columns of buildings in the distance.
“You need any company with this?” asked Sam.
Craig sighed and broke his gaze. Though it might’ve given him comfort to have Sam there, he knew Lauren wouldn’t have approved.
“I think I’ll be okay. Other than clothes and a few personal things, I don’t think there’s a lot that I need to get. Most of the furnishings were Lauren’s anyway. Besides, this is something I should do by myself.”
“Where are you going to stay now?”
“Well, I’m pretty sure Jason won’t want me to build an addition to the gym.” The slightest smile appeared on Craig’s face, a small bit of humor amid the recent dark days. “I’ve got a little money that can get me through until I figure out my next steps.”
He looked at Sam as if to assure her. “It’ll be fine. I’ll see you back here in a few days during a morning session. How about that?”
“I think that would be good. If you need anything in the meantime . . . wait. Your phone is busted. How will you—”
“I’ve got your number,” Craig assured. “I promise to reach out if I need anything.”
“You just go and get your stuff. I’ll be around to help you figure things out from there.”
Craig smiled apologetically. He had no intention of bringing Sam any closer to his affairs and putting her at risk with the monsters that awaited him.
“I appreciate you,” Craig said. “For listening to me, for believing me, and for worrying about me right now. We’ll talk soon.”
With that, Craig turned up the sidewalk and made his way to the train station and on to the apartment in Wicker Park.
Danny knew it had been over a week and a half since Craig was at his apartment. Out of sight around the wall that separated the kitchen from the entryway, Danny leaned on his cane. It was nearly eleven when he heard a key being inserted into the lock. The tumbler turned, and Danny could hear Craig enter and close the door behind him. Still out of sight, Danny peered around the corner to see Craig surveying the setting.
